A memory by any other name...

Some possible titles suggested for this post... 


What kind of fish is that? 
Threading the needle? 
Past meshing with present? 
Inchworm? 
Circum-decision 


I am fairly certain that you are nowhere near guessing where this story is headed given all of these titles.  


Today my sweet son, who came into this world with an incredibly off-center cone head with a very decent sized hematoma, turned fifteen. In honor of his birthday, and since we are in Cape Cod, he suggested I honor him here by telling this little story. Warning: this is going to be a bit graphic, and seemingly not quite the appropriate birthday homage. On second thought, maybe it is exactly the right way to salute a fifteen year old boy. Here goes...


It was a bright and sunny day about six years ago. A bunch of us had just spent a grand afternoon on Nauset Beach. As we were walking back to the car, the boy started to whine a little bit about his bathing suit. I didn't think much of it, as it was a bit of a walk and we were all pretty hot and tired. Suddenly his complaints took on more of a sense of urgency, so I decided to try to help him out. I figured we would just get the sandy suit off of him and he could make the seven minute ride home in a towel. To insure his privacy while I investigated the matter, I held up a towel as a screen. As we tried to pull off his bathing suit, it seemed to be stuck on something...well on one thing in particular. Oh my gosh! My son's bathing suit mesh was trying to circumcise him one bit at a time. Seriously. Some wayward piece of foreskin had made its way thru the bathing suit lining and could not find its way back out. This situation was going to take more thought, tools and privacy than the public beach parking lot could provide. 


Six of us piled into the Chevy Tahoe beach mobile, and I tried to drive as calmly as possible. The daughter was six years old at the time and was sitting in the back seat crying with concern for her brother. The only real description I had uttered was that he was stuck in his bathing suit. I do not know what uncurable diagnosis made for tv movie she had conjured in her head that warranted such upset, but on I drove. Some passengers kept trying to offer words of reassurance. I finally said "You did not see what I saw back there!" 


Upon arriving back at the house, my son gingerly walked up to the bath tub to get his sandy self ready for whatever magical remedy he hoped I had, while I basically went on a frantic search for scissors. I walked into the bathroom, our eyes met, and I knew he trusted me. Then I was eye to eye with the one-eyed menace who didn't look quite as confident. Mesh bathing suit linings have pretty tiny holes. Skin that has found its way through one of those little openings looks very vulnerable. I knew I was not wielding good sewing scissors that were likely to perform precision snipping. One wrong move was going to be a very bad thing. I decided to make a cut in the fabric much lower than the inchworm. I then told the boy to just hold on to the suit while I ripped the lining up to free willy. Phew. Mission accomplished. Circulation and better ability to walk restored. 


The daughter was relieved, my brother finally found out what the actual problem had been, and the husband continued walking around without a care in the world. (Seriously?)


My son wanted to make sure that I rolled out as many synonyms as possible, and while the effort was not terribly grand, I would be remiss if I left one of his favorites out. Protect everyone's tallywackers from attack bathing suit mesh!